


Philautia

by Ramen (BlushingTeddybear)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:56:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23812606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlushingTeddybear/pseuds/Ramen
Summary: Sylvain wakes up in the infirmary and although Hubert's presence was expected, his words weren't.(CF Sylvain, no spoilers)
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	Philautia

When Sylvain opened his eyes, the heavy taste of iron and dust was still lingering on his tongue. His mind was hazy as if his consciousness were held by a thin thread, but he realized soon enough that his body was still too numb to move. He had to blink once, twice before dark dots disappeared from his sight, they left place to a much more terrifying view.

“Goddess,” he grumbled, tongue heavy and throat parched.

“I reckon you could indeed thank her for letting you live after the moronic maneuver you tried to pull back there.”

Hubert’s tone was caustic and if Sylvain wasn’t already neatly tucked into bed, he’d physically recoil. He wasn’t afraid of the mage but his words struck harder than Bernadetta’s arrows and Sylvain clearly wasn’t in the best condition to get an earful.

“Hubert. Nice to see you too.” His dry lips managed to turn up into a weak grin that was immediately wiped from his face as Hubert continued.

“I’d thought we went over the plan enough time for it to stick into this hollow skull of yours. What were you thinking, engaging the enemy wyverns like that?”

Hubert was glaring at him from his full height, his visible eye boring a hole through Sylvain’s defenses. He felt like a child scolded by his parents for breaking a vase. Except they were at war, what broke were several of his bones and the wyverns might have not killed him but the mage looked like he was about to finish the job. Really, why had he charged alone? Sylvain couldn’t remember. All the memories he could gather were of sharp teeth, the snapping sound of wings, screams, a distant voice and the soothing warmth of healing magic. He recalled he had been moved too. He closed his eyes to tune out Hubert’s chastisement and focus on that. Amidst the smoke and blood, he could’ve sworn he smelled a familiar scent.

“Ah!” He opened his eyes again and offered a better smile than before. “Thank you for carrying me to Mercedes, Hubert. And sorry for making you lift a dead weight.”

The mage crossed his arms with a scowl.

“You aren’t dead, Gautier. Not yet.”

Ah yes, Hubert wouldn’t be Hubert without the threats.

“But you almost were, and Mercedes was too busy with Caspar to tend to you.”

“Wait. If Mercedes didn’t heal me, and Linhardt was at the back, then who-”

“I did.”

Sylvain’s eyes widened. So that warmth had been Hubert’s then.

“So much for an atheist. You were terrible at white magic back at the Academy, and have been ever since,” Sylvain snorted. “I wonder how you managed such an exploit.”

“I have faith in our Emperor, the Empire, and our victory. Seems like it was plenty enough to bring you back from Death’s door,” Hubert answered with a sneer.

“Of course,” Sylvain sighed. “Wouldn’t expect less from you, Vestra.”

The silence that fell upon them was heavy. Hubert was still staring daggers at him and couldn’t run away from his piercing glare, not with his injuries. Sylvain could apologize, sure. But Hubert would have none of it. He didn’t need an apology, but a soldier alive and well enough to fight. Sylvain was already lucky enough they’d let him assist to the war meetings even though he was a Kingdom noble and had been close to Dimitri for so long. Or maybe that was exactly the reason why they took him in. He sighed again, leaning further in the pillow beneath him. It was at time like this that he wondered if he did the right choice. If fighting for his own ideals was worth defecting and betraying his closest friends. Hubert would be the first to sneer at his disloyalty, and Sylvain couldn’t even defend himself.

He took a breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said with his eyes fixed on the ceiling. “I don’t know what got to me but I promise I won’t do it again.”

“I do not believe you.”  _ Ah. _ “This is not the first time you’ve put yourself in meaningless danger, Gautier. And all your promises of being careful went to naught so no, I do not trust you enough to let you off the hook just yet.”

“Look,” Sylvain said in an exasperated sigh “I am alive and I’ll recover in no time, just like I did before. I’m used to it so I can assure you I won’t be a burden to your beloved Edelgard.”

Hubert took a step forward and loomed over him, his figure blocking out the sun and casting a shadow on Sylvain’s face.

“I don’t think you understand my words so I will spell it out for you, Gautier.” Sylvain winced.

“A bright strategist like yourself must know this, but the troops’ moral is a key element for our victory. Your irrational behaviour is jeopardizing it each time you end up in the infirmary.”

Sylvain rolled his eyes.

“As if a Faerghan risking his life on the battlefield for them doesn’t rile them up. Look Vestra, they get a show and I get to fight for what I think is right, everyone’s happy when I’m on the frontlines.”

“Is that the truth, though?”

Sylvain didn’t answer. Hubert’s know-it-all tone was starting to seriously piss him off.

“Even now I wonder for what reason you’re so eager to waste your life away, Gautier.”

“I just do what I do best,” Sylvain answered with a forced, dry smile. “And that is fighting like I want to die. It’s the only thing I can do, really.”

The mage sighed and Sylvain couldn’t bring himself to meet the pitiful look in the bright green eye.

“I wish I could show you what I see when I look at you.”

“I see it everyday when I look into the mirror. Don't waste your breath.”

Hubert let out a dissatisfied hum and knelt down at the side of the bed, resting his hand on the mattress right next to Sylvain’s. The redhead didn’t say a word but his widened eyes betrayed his surprise.

“I see a bright young man who gives an outrageous amount of love to the others yet none to himself. And I wonder why, Sylvain, why you won’t notice that we care about you.”

It took Sylvain a few seconds to process Hubert’s words, and a few others to gather his own.

“Excuse me?”

“We know this campaign affects you greatly and we worry about you. Even more so because you won’t reach out to us.”

Hubert slid his hand on top of Sylvain’s and lightly squeezed it, Sylvain’s heart might have stopped.

“I ask this of you, Sylvain, not only as a comrade-in-arms but also as someone who cares. Stop throwing yourself away at the first occasion.”

The redhead nodded with hesitation, the sight of Hubert on his knees and looking genuinely  _ concerned _ was definitely a first for him. However he couldn’t bring himself to pinch his own arm and risk for that fever dream to disappear. In a silence Sylvain was too terrified to break, Hubert got up and buried his hand in Sylvain’s fiery hair, the touch sending shivers down his spine.

“You are cherished and I wish you would notice it. But even if you do not, it will never change the fact that you are a dear friend to us.” He stroked Sylvain’s hair one more time before letting go. “I do hope you’ll recover fast, but not because I want you on the battlefield. Seeing you on this bed fills me with the dread that one day you won’t open your eyes again. I’d rather have you in the gardens for a game of chess if possible.”

Sylvain chuckled at that, the first sound to get out of his mouth in a while.

“I won’t let you win like last time so be prepared,” he said with a smile. It must have been genuine enough for Hubert to smile back, another sight Sylvain wasn’t used to.

“I will look forward to it, Sylvain.”

The mage turned around the bed, and as he was making his way toward the infirmary’s door, he was stopped by Sylvain calling to him.

“Hubert! I- I… I’m sorry… And thank you.”

Hubert looked back, and with a gentle smile that surprisingly softened his features, he nodded with a hum before stepping out.

**Author's Note:**

> I injured my foot yesterday and to cope with being bedridden, I projected myself onto Sylvain yet once again. Hubert might be a bit OOC, a little too touchy, a little to honest with his feelings, but my foot hurts and I wanted to treat myself.  
> I made a quick Google search for the title, philautia is "self-love" and we all know it's what Sylvain lacks the most. I love him, but he has issues.
> 
> My twitter is @GaikotsuRamen  
> @sylvgautier is my Sylvain-centric, NSFW side acct


End file.
